


What's Left

by NervousAsexual



Series: Don't They Know It's the End [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: Everything Skinny Malone ever had is gone. He's used to that. But this... this he's not prepared to lose.
Relationships: Skinny Malone & Nick Valentine, Skinny Malone/Nick Valentine
Series: Don't They Know It's the End [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961272
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	What's Left

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober prompt #7--enemy to caregiver

He finally thought he had a good thing going and who turns up? Nicky.

Just waltzed right in like he owned the place, like this was the old neighborhood and Darla was some damsel in distress. Which she ain't. He might be. Skinny's not too proud to admit that. He's been living off pork and beans for days now and it's put his stomach in distress.

"Stay," he says to Nicky.

His men turned on him. His girl--no, Darla; Darla's never been anybody's but her own--left his sorry self. Every time he thinks he's got something it goes away.

He takes Nicky's arm and begs him. "Stay."

But not Nicky. There's always Nicky. Every time he thinks he's got it made Nicky's there to spoil his fun. He's the one thing Skinny can count on, which would be funny if it weren't so sad.

"Stay," he screams. "Please, please stay. I can fix this. This ain't nothin' I can't handle."

No matter what he says Nicky doesn't listen. Coolant leaks down his cheek like tears. He hasn't said a word since... since... He just hasn't. He just looks out toward the ocean.

"Nicky, please, please... It's okay, it's gonna be okay."

He tries to turn his head but is afraid to touch, afraid Nicky will turn to dust in his hands. His dry cracked skin seems so fragile and Skinny cradles his cheek in the palm of one hand. His head rests there so heavily. The light in his eyes is fading. He won't stay. No one ever does.

"Tell me it's gonna be okay?"

Nick's eyes close, and they open, but he says nothing. He still keeps looking at the ocean.

One time he dreamed about Nick in the vault. He was still in the overseer's office, sitting with his feet up on the desk when Skinny came in. Skinny told the other Triggermen to scram, and as they did Nick looked up at him and smiled. He was confused--what the hell? Didn't Nicky get that this was serious? That if it weren't for Skinny's legendary compassion he'd be scrap metal in the vault's waste system?--but then Nick's metal hand closed around his tie and tugged him down and he kissed him.

All that's stupid, though. Synths don't kiss, that'd be like locking lips with a toaster, and even if he wanted to kiss a synth it'd be weird to kiss Nicky; with the holes in his head it has to be dry in there, and who the hell cares, Nick's coming apart in his arms.

"Don't do this, Nicky. Stay with me?"

But look at him, his eyes are going dark, there's wires visibly shorting out in his neck and probably if he could see through the old hardboiled getup he'd see that Nick's in pieces. Goddammit, if he'd left a little earlier, if he hadn't stopped to take a leak, if he'd stumbled on the fucking mutie a little sooner...

Nick's head gets heavier and suddenly Skinny realizes Nick's hand is hanging onto his wrist. He's looking up at him but it doesn't seem like he sees anything.

Goddammit. Where's the damn Institute when you need them? The way people talk they're all over the Commonwealth, but when one of their toys is falling apart they aren't around. They're supposed to be wise guys, right? Don't they steal people's personalities and put them in new bodies? So why don't they turn up and fix him? What the hell good are they?

"What's a guy gotta do to get some service around here?" he screams at everything. His hands and his arms and front and all of Nick are covered in coolant and he feels the weight shift in his arms and he grabs but he's heavy, and Nick's hand is still locked onto his wrist, and Nick slips from him and there's an awful crack as his skull hits the concrete. "Goddammit!"

He tries to pick him back up and the weight of him and the growing pool of coolant around them conspire so he slips and falls heavily on top of Nick.

Nicky always ruins everything. Everything Skinny ever had, everything he stole or bribed or cajoled his way into owning, Nicky ruins somehow. He's damned thorough, Skinny has to give him that much. Now he's even ruining himself.

He tries to heft himself up without putting any more weight on Nick and as he raises his head he sees that Nick's left eye has gone dark.

Nick squeezes his wrist but says nothing. He says nothing at all.

"You goddamn asshole," Skinny says to him. "I oughta slug you one. Makin' me do all the work. You're s'posed to be the hero. You oughta rescue your own self."

He jams his hands in Nick's coat pockets and feels around for stims or duct tape or anything, there's nothing there, he doesn't have anything.

Checks his own pockets. One thing of Med-X. He was saving it up for a special occasion but what the hell. Doesn't really know where to stick him, he's screwed up everywhere, so he just sticks it into Nick's arm and hopes for the best.

He doesn't know what to do. Nick doesn't tell him what to do.

Go get help, he thinks, but where's he gonna go? Who's gonna help him? Nicky ruined all that back at the vault. He looks around for something, anything he can use, but there's nothing, just the body of the super mutant and the pool of blood and coolant and oil and in one direction the ocean, in the other a distant farm.

"I'll get help," he tells Nick. "You fucking bastard. You stay right here and when I get back you better still be here or I'll bring you back and kill ya myself."

He has to pry Nick's hand from his wrist, peel the metal fingers back one by one, and stumbles back toward the farm. Maybe they won't want to help him but he would lay money that they'd help Nick. And if they won't... if they won't he'll make them do it. Even if he has to force them to do it at the point of a gun they're going to do it.

It's wrong, he thinks, looking at Nick all broken and motionless on the cold hard concrete. He can't leave him like this. He can't.

He does.


End file.
